


burn myself (just had to touch it)

by elysiumwaits



Category: Leverage
Genre: Fade to Black, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Sorry!, Suit Kink, Suits, yes this is the day 1 prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:35:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26915986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: Quinn finds out just how good Eliot can look in a suit, too.
Relationships: Mr. Quinn/Eliot Spencer (Leverage)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	burn myself (just had to touch it)

**Author's Note:**

> It's Kinktober. This is day 1. I'm posting it on day 9.

"I'm going to stop taking your calls if they all end like this."

Eliot snorts, shoving open the door to his apartment and stepping aside so that Quinn can limp his way inside. "You act like your suit wasn't comin' off anyway."

It's a good point, considering Quinn's suit is mostly a set of conveniently placed tatters that allow him to keep a small modicum of modesty. But Quinn was only half-joking. He's got to stop taking Eliot's calls, because they both keep getting naked and getting off together. Problem is, Quinn keeps picking up the phone for precisely the same reason. He's not in the mood to be let down gently tonight, though, so he'll just go on keeping that to himself. 

The light in the living room flickers on, and Quinn takes a minute to look mournfully down at his suit now that he can see properly. "Look at this, there's a whole _leg_ missing. You can see my underwear!"

"Yeah," Eliot drawls. Quinn can hear the smirk in his voice. "I got a great view from the back."

It's not exactly hard to get what's left of his pants off, which means that Quinn can turn just quick enough to catch Eliot looking. "Listen here, if you're just going to ogle..." The sentence trails off as Quinn swallows. 

Eliot's suit has mostly survived. His tie is long gone, and his white shirt had been grabbed and ripped open in the heat of the fight, buttons pinging everywhere like Eliot was some kind of cheap romance novel hero. There's a couple of rips in the sleeves of his jacket where bullets had grazes him, a little bit of blood staining the fabric around one. Not much to worry about. Not that Quinn's really capable of higher functioning right now. It isn't his fault that Eliot looks like an action movie star with his tailored charcoal grey pants covered in soot and dirt. 

"Now who's _ogling_?" Eliot teases. 

Quinn's gaze shoots up to the smirk on his lips, and it's a mistake. There's no way to tease back. His eyes linger on the soot smeared across one cheek and the way that Eliot's hair is escaping the little ponytail he'd pulled it back in. He _watches_ as Eliot's eyes go dark like they do when one of them has the other pinned down and panting. 

Eliot's tongue is pink when it swipes across his lower lip. He says Quinn's name, low and rough, and that's it. Quinn took the call, he's in his handbasket, and he'd like to go to hell now, please. He'll blame the adrenaline or something later.

The jacket he'd been wearing is long gone, and his shirt's easy enough to tug off, considering it's hanging on by two buttons and a prayer. Not that Quinn cares about his own clothes right now. "I want to suck your cock," he says, and it feels like the words leave him in a rush. Eliot groans, hand coming up to hold onto the back of one the chairs. He flexes his fingers like he's having trouble keeping his hands to himself. Quinn can relate.

Eliot groans, hand coming up to hold onto the back of one the chairs. "Be my guest." He flexes his fingers in the upholstery like he's having trouble keeping his hands to himself. 

Quinn can relate. He's already hard, he realizes when he gets his underwear off. Just looking at Eliot, who looked like _that_ , got him going in practically nothing flat. And while he normally loves Eliot best when he doesn't have a single stitch of clothing on... "Leave the suit."

" _Jesus_ , Quinn." Eliot closes his eyes, presses the heel of his hand into the bulge of his pants as Quinn watches. "Fuck, okay, get over here."

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, don't @ me


End file.
